


Let you know how much you mean to me

by DisenchantedHalo (Morgawse)



Series: Save me from my self-destruction [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dom Frank Iero, Established Relationship, Gags, Gerard is a brat, Light Angst, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-28 13:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19394875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgawse/pseuds/DisenchantedHalo
Summary: Part of Frank’s mission as Gerard’s dominant was to help him grow. In the area of Gerard’s lack of self-worth and blatant disrespect for self-preservation, Frank realised that he had been woefully lacking. That had to stop.Their agreement was that when Gerard broke the rules, Frank meted out an appropriate punishment. As initially written, childish or bratty behaviour called for childlike punishments. However, Frank had figured out that Gerard submitted too readily to these corrections.Frank needed a new solution to Gerard the brat





	Let you know how much you mean to me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my lovelies, a new series. There is another fic in WIP for it, how much further it goes than these two I don't know. I wanted to explore the ideas of the BDSM world more as a therapeutic practice and also the idea of sacred kink. I love that even with that dreaded book & film series, the psychological and mindful benefits of BDSM as both a recreational practice and lifestyle are being accepted and studied. I also wanted to show the importance of a dom knowing what will help their sub out and that it's not all about beatings and harsh play if that is only going to re-enforce harmful beliefs that the sub has about themselves. 
> 
> To put a smidgen of context around this series, MCR happened but Gerard blew it up after Three Cheers, not Danger Days.
> 
> OK another Dis preach over! On with the (hopefully) good stuff :).
> 
> I have tried to edit this, but if any errors or typos remain, my apologies.

Frank threw his keys on the grey marble kitchen counter. This was the 5th rescue mission in the last two weeks. He hadn’t said anything in the car on the way home. Thankfully for Frank’s temper, neither had Gerard.

Frank started the coffee machine, so it was brewing while he rummaged in the fridge and kitchen cabinets for some snacks.

“For fuck’s sake,” he groaned.

Leaving the piles of fruit, crudité, chips, crackers and vegan cheese on the side, Frank retraced his steps to the car.

Gerard was still sitting in the car, staring into space, hands balled into fists in his lap.

Frank opened the car door.

“Come inside, honey. You can’t stay out here all night.”

Gerard didn’t move.

Frank leaned over him, unbuckled the seat belt, and took Gerard’s hands in his, giving Gerard no option but to get out of the car, unless he wanted to fight against Frank.

“Coffee’s brewing and I got us a light supper to have while we talk.”

Frank ushered Gerard into the living room.

Gerard promptly flopped down onto one of the worn leather armchairs like a sullen teen.

Frank didn’t bite. Instead, he returned to the kitchen to plate the food and see how the coffee was doing.

“You didn’t have to burst in there like that!” Gerard yelled through the open doorway. “It wasn’t like I was in mortal danger or anything!”

Frank decided not to respond again. Better to have the talk face to face.

“You know what, screw you! I’m going out again. Don’t wait up. Don’t know when I’ll be back.”

That made Frank move. He sprinted from the kitchen to find that, true to his threat, Gerard was heading to the front door.

“Gee, stop!” Frank shouted. “Ok. Maybe I overreacted.”

Frank knew he hadn’t, not if with Gerard in this current mindset Frank had received a call from Shaun saying that he’d spotted Gerard in a local dive bar, notorious for attracting every possible low life living in Patterson, New Jersey. There had been plenty of rumours about what went on it that bar, none of them made it sound like a place Gerard would be safe.

“We really do need to talk. This is the fifth time in the past fortnight that either you or one of our friends has called me to pick you up from some unsavoury situation or other before you hurt yourself or let someone else hurt you.” Frank dropped the pitch of his voice, “You know I can’t continue to let this behaviour slide.”

Gerard huffed, but he did back away from the door.

Frank knew what Gerard was angling for, but he wasn’t going to give it to him this time. Their agreement was that when Gerard broke the rules, Frank meted out an appropriate punishment. 

As initially written, childish or bratty behaviour called for childlike punishments such as spankings or corner-time. However, Frank had figured out that Gerard submitted too readily to these corrections when he was deliberately pushing Frank’s buttons and acting either as if he believed that he was immortal or as if he had a death wish. As much as Frank wanted to attribute Gerard’s reckless behaviour to a belief in immortality, he knew that it wasn’t. Deep down, Frank’s amazing husband hated himself. Gerard had bought hook line and sinker all the crap that his parents had fed him about how much of a disappointment he was, how he was nothing but a drain on them and their resources. This was all capped off by them turfing him out the second he hit eighteen, expecting Gerard to fend for himself from thereon in.

Frank needed a new solution to Gerard the brat, which didn’t reinforce those messages. Impact play was something they both enjoyed as scenes. But if it was Frank’s hand, a paddle, the belt or a cane to Gerard’s bratty ass to correct Gerard’s self-endangering behaviour, well Frank was now convinced that the little voice in Gerard’s head told him how right his parents had been with every blow that Frank delivered.

Part of Frank’s mission as Gerard’s dominant was to help him grow. In the area of Gerard’s lack of self-worth and blatant disrespect for self-preservation, Frank realised that he had been woefully lacking. That had to stop.

Frank paused as he went to grab two coffee mugs. Any old mug was fine for him, but that wouldn’t do for Gerard. Frank wanted to demonstrate how special Gerard was to him. Frank searched the cupboard for the old Star Wars mug that Gerard favoured, finally finding it in the dishwasher - still dirty.

Frank shook his head. He had asked Gerard to put the dishwasher on earlier in the day as he’d been working from home. Clearly, that hadn’t happened and all the crockery and pans from the day before were unwashed in there. Luckily, there was space for the few things they were about to use, and it could go on before they went to bed.

“Let’s see how well this goes down,” Frank thought as he took a moment to compose himself before carrying a tray with two plates, the food and the mugs of coffee into the living room.

Gerard hadn’t taken his jacket off and was perched on the edge of his seat, hands at his sides, pressing down hard onto the seat cushion.

Frank knew the sign. Gerard was ready to walk out if he didn’t like the way the conversation was going, irrespective of any consequences he’d face from Frank the following day.

Usually one for the truth, Frank sensed that if he told Gerard everything now, he’d leave in a strop. That was not the outcome Frank needed. So, he opted to leave out the details of what was going to happen after their discussion. Gerard could find that out for himself. It was more important that he knew what Frank expected going forward.

“Can you tell me what’s going on in your head, sweetheart? Don’t try to deny something's going on. You know I know you too well for that.”

“If you know me so well, you tell me what’s wrong,” Gerard spat then gulped down a mouthful of coffee.

“I’m not your therapist,” Frank stated calmly. “I’m your husband and your dominant. Now, shall we try that again? What were you thinking, going to those dive bars with their gambling dens, drug dealers and fuck knows what else?”

It was at times like these that Frank wished he had the patience of a saint. Even if he was frustrated, he had to remain the one with the cool head.

Gerard tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips.

That look! It was the ‘I’m debating if it’s worth defying you’ look. Frank shoved some strawberries into his mouth to stop him from saying something out of irritation. Gerard was an adult he was aware of the penalty for disobedience.

And…the defences stayed up!

“If you’re not my therapist, what good is me telling you?”

“Because I love and want to do whatever I can to help you. It’s my job to create a space where you feel safe and secure. If it’s something I’ve done or not done, I must know, or I can’t adjust my behaviour.”

It was kind of a low blow, but perhaps it would get some movement from the stubborn redhead sitting across the room from him.

“It’s nothing new, Frank.” Gerard’s voice had a wearied tone to it. “You know how I feel since everything blew up. We had a chance to be something, to make a change in this world, but I frittered it away. Now, I do concept sketches of action figures for toy designers. I don’t even get a say in the final product, Frank! I fucked up! No, nix that I am a fuck up, a worthless moron that screws up everything I touch.”

Gerard was right. Frank had heard it all before. He’d even turned Gerard’s ass red several times over talking about himself like that. That method of correction was working so well, wasn’t it? Hence the new approach.

“You’re not. We did make a difference, even if it was only for a short period. We gave those kids something. I’m proud of what we did, the legacy we created. You should be too.”

Frank held two fingers in front of Gerard’s face – their signal for Gerard not to talk.

“We have to do something more about changing how you see yourself. Just your submission to me and your therapy are obviously not enough. Tomorrow you are going to spend your free time researching Sacred Kink and BDSM as a therapeutic tool. Your next session with Lydia, you will talk to her about your findings. You will also ask her about ways I can be more actively involved in helping you, not simply acting as emotional support, by using any of the approaches that resonate with you and Lydia feels would be safe for you to try given what we already practice. Is that clear?”

The expression that flickered across Gerard’s face indicated outright obedience was not necessarily forthcoming. Frank braced for another tirade about how pointless an activity therapy was.

“What if she doesn’t get the lifestyle, or dismisses my research?”

Frank’s jaw dropped in surprise at the response. He quickly schooled his face into a neutral expression.

“Then, my love, you ask for a referral to a kink-friendly therapist, and we go from there.”

“Huh, um…well…” Instead of finishing his sentence, Gerard picked up a plate in one hand, popped a couple of carrots into his mouth with the other, and then proceeded to put some fruit, crackers, and cheese onto the plate.

Gerard was uncomfortable and therefore wanted to avoid talking about it any further by eating.

Frank wondered if that meant Gerard saw the logic in Frank’s reasoning and instructions.

“It would be helpful if you’d verbalise your willingness to comply. Remember, this is part of your punishment, not a suggestion. However, given how you’re feeling tonight, I’m willing to leave your confirmation until tomorrow morning.”

Gerard’s shoulders lowered. He shifted back in his seat. Gerard was pouting, but the more relaxed posture indicated he was under the false impression that Frank was done with him for the night. Big mistake.

Once they had finished supper, Frank loaded the dishwasher and put it on to run.

Meanwhile, he had his fingers crossed that Gerard was doing as he had told him to: go upstairs, undress, sit on the bed, and wait for him.

“Good boy, honey.”

Frank stood in the doorway drinking in the sight of a brooding husband; his red hair all messed up no doubt from repeated pulling on it in exasperation, his pale skin set off against the charcoal bedding and grey-white walls. It would have been perfect if Gerard’s expression was softer. As it was Frank couldn’t see the almond-honey of his eyes nor the tantalising curve of his lips through the scowl. The mean and moody look did nothing for his husband, in Frank’s opinion.

“I wish you’d let me take some pictures of you. Some natural ones, not like those staged photoshoots we used to do - a few shots that capture your true nature and beauty. The brilliance that I see in you. I’d love for you truly to comprehend how I see you.”

Frank walked into the bedroom. He was holding up two fingers again. This wasn’t a time for debate.

“Scoot back on the bed and lie down. I’ll be over in a sec.”

Everything that Frank needed for the night had been neatly stacked in one of his drawers. Immediately he had concluded that he needed another tack for handling the brat, Frank had collated a collection of items he would require for an occasion like tonight into one spot so that he could easily access them without having to rummage around. Even more so than usual, he must give his undivided attention to his husband. Frank didn’t want to turn away for a moment to retrieve something from a drawer or a chest.

“Hands,” Frank commanded. He waited for Gerard to obey.

Gerard obeyed. Not as quickly as he was supposed to, but the delay was all part of the childish act.

Frank bound Gerard wrists together, then tied them to the headboard with a silk scarf. He couldn’t remember which one of them it belonged to. A hangover from the band days. Most likely it’s Gerard’s he was always the more dapper when they had to go to those stuffy formal events. The silk scarf was a more fitting restraint to demonstrate the worth of his husband than metal or leather cuffs.

Next came the ball gag. Frank dangled it in front of Gerard’s face.

“Open.”

Gerard did the exact opposite. He clamped his mouth shut, sucking both his lips inward.

“I asked you to open your mouth. I had a can of Monster on the way to collect you, on top of the coffee we just had, and I don’t have to be at the studio early tomorrow - Ray’s going to open up. So, by all means, extend your punishment, I can go all night.”

Gerard still faltered. An internal debate was going on. The gag would remove his ability to give Frank sass or to refute anything that Frank said about him unless it lines up with the well-known fact that Gerard Arthur Iero-Way is a useless piece of shit.

Frank raised an eyebrow and placed a hand on his hip, tapping the fingers against his jeans, while he waited for Gerard to open his mouth. The gag remained hanging from his other hand.

Reluctantly Gerard opened his mouth wide enough that the ball fitted between his teeth.

Frank hummed appreciatively at the stretch of Gerard’s lips around the gag.

Gerard whimpered. Now Frank was convinced that Gerard had thought he had gotten away with it. To Gerard’s chagrin, here he was at Frank’s mercy, being corrected for his recklessness, with no idea of the details of what was coming next.

Frank leaned in to tuck a stray lock of hair that had fallen over Gerard’s face, behind his ear. Frank didn’t want anything impeding his view of that handsome face.

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to spank or cane you tonight. I’ve got other plans.” Frank placed a kiss to the centre of Gerard’s forehead to reassure him. Then Frank handed him the squeaky toy they used as a safe word when Gerard couldn’t speak. Frank doubted that Gerard would use it. He was too stubborn, even if signs of praise and affection made him more uncomfortable than any impact or edge pay. However, the safe word was foundational to their relationship. It was essential that Gerard had it no matter what the scene. Gerard must trust Frank implicitly; the squeaky toy was evidence of their mutual trust.

“I’m changing some of your punishment.” Frank hoped that Gerard had already figured that out by now. “Not all though, so this is going on.”

Before Gerard has time to register what Frank’s got in his hands, the cock ring has been fastened around the base of Gerard’s cock.

Frank pulled his hoodie over his head. His t-shirt comes along with it. Frank folded them up, placing them on top of his nightstand. He took one last admiring look at his handiwork, then climbs up on the bed, straddling Gerard’s hips.

“Why? Why Gerard? Why would you allow yourself to believe all the awful things you think about yourself?”

Frank kissed a line across Gerard’s collar bone.

“You are so precious to me, to Mikey too. You know you’re still his hero? You are the person he looks up to the most in this world. Have you any idea what it would do to us, and Ray, if anything happened to you?”

There was another whine from behind the gag - Gerard’s attempt at showing Frank his discomfort. He believed that there was not a single person who would miss him if he vanished off the face of this earth.

It’s all bullshit. Frank and Mikey would be devastated. In his rational mind, Frank knew that Gerard was aware of that fact. Instead, Gerard chooses to ignore the truth because mattering to someone is not something that happens to Gerard. Knowing how futile traditional methods of punishing Gerard for those thoughts had been, Frank intended to use whatever other methods might be more beneficial to assist Gerard in changing his beliefs.

Frank let his hands and mouth do the talking for a couple of minutes, making the most of the exposed torso underneath him.

“You are so beautiful.” Frank began extolling his husband’s virtues again. “Every freckle, every scar, every stretch mark. They are a part of you, the you I love. These,” Frank reached up to trace a finger along the white tram lines down Gerard’s left forearm, “you think that these are a sign of failure, of weakness.” Frank peppered Gerard’s breastbone with kisses. “Those scars and the others on both your arms and thighs, show me how strong you are – how much you have endured.

There are times I wish I could go back to the day we first met, so I could have the privilege of falling in love with you all over again. There is not one thing about you that I don’t love. Yes, my darling, I even love your tantrums and your sulks. Without them, you would not be you.”

Frank heard a choked sob leak around the gag. He stared into red-rimmed eyes, watching the tears brimming at Gerard’s waterline. Frank had expected this reaction.

“You are not insignificant. You are a visionary. You care passionately about things. When you give, you give everything body, mind and spirit to it. One day, my love, you will recognise the fires you lit in so many lives. I do not doubt that if you keep honing them, one of those universes that you see in your mind will explode into the public eye, and this time it will be your storytelling skills that will show people that it’s ok to be different – to be themselves.

I have never,” Frank punctuates the rest of his sentence with kisses in a line down Gerard’s quivering torso, “ever known anyone like you. I don’t imagine I ever will. You are a one-off, and I am honoured to be by your side for the rest of our days, my love.”

Gerard was shaking his head, accompanied by more mumbles of disagreement. Trickles of water were now lining Gerard’s cheeks.

As it always did every time he saw evidence of how much his husband hated himself, it broke Frank’s heart a little more. In time, if he was successful in improving Gerard’s self-image and self-worth, Frank understood that he was going to have to glue two hearts back together - his as well as Gerard's. For that night, though, Frank tried not to think about it.

Instead, he murmured, “I am going to kiss every inch of your body. Then I am going to make love to you slowly, gently with all the tenderness I can muster, my handsome angel.”

Frank kept his word. No quarter of Gerard’s body was left untouched. Every visible rib, both hip bones that jutted out further than Frank would have liked, he kissed. Frank retraced the path his hands had taken over the scars of a troubled youth. Not once did Frank hesitate to tell his husband how much he treasured him, how he could hardly find the words to express how much he loved him. Frank took his time. There was no rush.

When there wasn’t another inch left to kiss, Frank fished out the lube, propped Gerard’s hips up with one of the pillows he wasn’t lying on and then settled himself between those gorgeous scarred thighs.

Frank lapped at the puckered muscle in front of him. He worked his tongue over and around, resisting the urge to nip at the rim. No pain permitted, not even the merest hint of it. The tension was still there in Gerard’s body. He was refusing to relax into Frank’s touch, desperate to retain the last vestiges of self-control. Gerard was determined to resist all attempts to counter the nagging refrain in his head that he was such a screw-up, that he didn’t deserve all this attention, that as this was a punishment, he had to endure it not be soothed by it. 

Frank wasn’t deterred. He had a plan, and he was sticking to it. If there was no safeword, no squeaking or dropping of the toy, there would be no stopping. What kind of example would he be setting if he didn’t follow through? It wasn't as if Gerard was in any physical danger. Nor did was it likely that he could become any more emotionally scarred or traumatised through Frank's loving words and ministrations.

While pondering that question, Frank kept going, gradually poking more and more of his tongue through the muscles as they instinctively opened up to his touch, despite Gerard’s efforts to clench up and deny him entry. When Frank withdrew his tongue and knelt up, he could have sworn that there was a mewl of protest. 

As he drizzled some of the lube into the palm of his hand, Frank licked his lips savouring the taste of his husband that lingered there. He then coated his fingers before tentatively pushing two inside, easily locating Gerard’s prostate. Frank pumped his fingers in and out of Gerard, making sure to graze his target every time until he could see that the bundle of nerves had warmed to his touch and was sending waves of pleasure through his husband’s body.

Finally, the tide was turning. Gerard had stopped fighting everything Frank had said about him, had stopped resisting the loving touches, and was now allowing the sensations overtake him. Gerard moaned with desire, his body bearing down on Frank’s fingers.

Frank kept himself in check. This wasn’t about his desires. It was a demonstration of unconditional love. That didn’t mean he wasn’t turned on, only that he had to pace himself until Gerard had fully surrendered, the only thoughts in his head coming from the thrills his body was feeling.

After an hour of this phase of Gerard’s punishment through Frank ministering to him with his mouth, tongue and fingers, Frank perceived that he had teased the pair of them long enough. He slunk out of his jeans and underwear, adding them to the pile of clothing on his nightstand.

“Ready for me?” Frank asked while pouring a generous amount of lube into his hands.

Gerard nodded. His pupils were blown with desire.

With one hand, Frank stroked himself, making sure that he was slicked up enough to slide right into the well-prepared hole. With the other hand, he gave some attention to the purple-tipped cock curving up against Gerard’s belly, dripping with pre-cum, relishing the keening sounds from the want he had kindled in his husband.

“Ahh, feels so good, my love,” Frank crooned as he pushed his way in. He set a languorously slow rhythm for the rocking of his hips, taking lazy but well-directed thrusts. After every few rolls of his hips, Frank leaned in and kissed the corner of the stretched-open mouth that often had his own mouth salivating, not bothered about the drool seeping from behind the gag.

Eventually, Frank couldn’t hold back anymore. He picked up his pace, still careful not to just slam into Gerard. As the pressure built inside him, Frank’s eloquence deserted him.

“Fu..Fu..Fuck,” Frank stuttered when he spilt out inside Gerard. “I…I…L…Love…Y…You,” he continued panting his way through each word while he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Once he had slipped out of Gerard, Frank pecked his cute little pixie nose.

“It’s all over, my love. All done. You were wonderful, so well behaved for me.”

Still slightly breathless, Frank untied the gag and silk scarf, discarding them where they fell. Then he sank down beside Gerard holding his arm out for his redheaded brat to snuggle up. Frank wrapped his arm tightly around Gerard, pulling him as close as he could. Tangling a hand through Gerard’s hair, Frank asked, “Do you want me to run you a bath, or do you want to stay like this and sleep?”

Gerard gave Frank his answer – without opening his mouth. He hooked his left leg over Frank’s and slung his left arm across Frank’s chest.

For once, Frank was content to accept actions, not words. He held tight to his beloved husband until Gerard’s breathing evened out, and the consistent rise and fall of his chest told Frank that he was asleep. Careful not to wake Gerard, Frank removed the cock ring then dressed them both in pyjama pants before he cuddled back up to Gerard, the warmth of his husband soon lulling Frank to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> As always thank you for reading! I really enjoy interacting with people who read my writing, so please if you thought this was good or at least worth exploring further, please hit kudos and comment to let me know what you thought. All constructive comments welcome.


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